Aureate Fates

17

        HANDSHAKES WITH TURBULENCE

  —DREW—

He'd been to Verskyia before; once, six years ago. Drew had been too young to appreciate the sight of the massive forests.

Thema, the small girl dressed in a brilliant red robe, slept soundly before him on the parallel cushioned bench in the carriage. Their chains were gone.

Beside him, Reese had lost his finely-tailored suit jacket somewhere in between the chaos. He faced straight ahead, not bothering to look at Drew.

Not one word was spoken between them in the two hours they'd ridden in the royal carriage. Drew only thought of his role in the prophecy.

What purpose do I serve? He thought of what Delphinia had said, Creator of anything. Perhaps Delphinia would have more answers for him when they arrived at the palace.

The palace was built from exactly nine-hundred thousand white limestones, one million clay bricks and three-hundred sapphires. Drew once read that the blue sapphires were scattered miscellaneously across the palace grounds. Finders of the stone were blessed with true love.

Drew could not sit in silence for much longer, he would go mad with his thoughts. Recounting each conversation he'd had, how many seconds each had lasted. It was dizzying.

"You have magic," Drew announced, quietly, being cautious of Thema's sleeping form. He had wanted to acknowledge it for awhile now. It did not come as a surprise that Reese had some sort of peculiarity in his veins, yet Erik...

Reese leaned back in his seat beside Drew and finally looked at him. His hair was ruffled, likely from running his hands through it too many times, and his eyes were darker, even in the Verskyia light that seeped through the gold-trimmed windows. He shrugged. "Perhaps."

Drew titled his head and gave Reese a raise of his brows. "Don't be modest, now."

The corners of Reese's mouth quirked, but he remained in his tired, oddly irritated state. "I would assume that my mother was a witch, in some fashion."

Drew's breath hitched slightly. "A witch," he marveled. He had only ever read about them in books, the ones that said they were mischievous and cruel. "What are the extent of your...gifts?"

Reese dragged his eyes along Drew's form, suddenly gaining a dark look over his roguish face. "Such large questions from a quiet boy."

Drew averted his gaze before Reese could see the warmth that had creeped its way to his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "Just curious."

"You want to know what I'm curious about?" Reese rivaled, using that arrogant drawl.

"Not necessarily," Drew answered, earning a wolf's smirk from Reese. Reese was slowly moving out of the slump he was in, the one that casted a dark aura around his electric spirit. Drew could admit that he didn't like that side of him.

"Why is it that you entertain Fenton the way that you do?" Reese persisted, casually. Mild.

"How do you mean?"

Reese nudged Drew's foot with his own. "You're intelligent enough to know."

Drew sighed. "I know you hate him—"

Reese laughed, "I don't hate him. That'd cost more energy than I care to give."

"He's not so bad. He's just...well, you wouldn't understand." If Drew revealed the torment he'd endured through Fenton, some final part of him would crack. He couldn't afford that now.